Repercussions of Choices
by KiariKyoKiba
Summary: AU. The Incidents during the Supernatural Civil War of 1914 - 1919 had more repercussions that anyone thought it would have. But it's Nick Rivers, a boy from Mystic Falls, who has to deal with most of them when he comes to New Orleans, but even with the Werewolf, Vamp and Witch issues the shadow of the missing Niklaus Mikaelson gets bigger and bigger.
1. Chapter 1

**Repercussions of Choices:**

 **Part 1:**

 **Chapter 1**

" _Choices made, whether bad or good, follow you forever and affect everyone in their path one way or another."_

― _J.E.B. Spredemann, An Unforgivable Secret_

It is dark, the light that's left barely shining through the tree branches, as the blonde haired male walks alone through the trees, his face twisting whenever he steps into the marsh under his foot. He decides after the first several times it happens that although he's never been in a swamp before, having only read about them before now, he's most defiantly not a swamp person.

Considering he lived all his life in a small town that has no swamp, the closest thing to it being near the Waterfall which he only went to once in a while, he's not that surprised that he's reached this decision. He consoles himself by the thought that he won't be spending that much longer in the swamp.

For a minute he thinks about turning around and walking back towards his car. It wouldn't take him that long to get back to it as it is parked only a short distance from where he is standing, on the main road that he had been forced to drive along to get here. It's a tempting thought that almost wins him over, especially when he remembers that he's near The French Quarter of New Orleans and all he would have to go to get back there is drive a little longer down the road.

But he pushes the thought away, as tempting as it is he has no need for it at the moment, he can do that another time, he's here for a reason. And that reason made him enter the Bayou during September in the middle of the night at the age of twenty. No way is he going to turn around and leave it now he is here, he's spent the past few months planning this, had only just worked up the courage to leave his home a few days ago.

He won't turn around and walk away, he won't return home with no answers, not when what he wants is just within his grasp, only a few hours to a day away from him. He's waited too long now to allow his own annoyance at the situation to get in the way.

The blonde won't allow it to get in his way.

After all, he has learnt how to be patient in the last few years since things started to change and his life was ruined in a way he couldn't fix. Not even Bonnie could fix this, not with the spells and curses that had been past down the females of her family for centuries and all the magic in the world she could wield without dying herself.

God, he thought of the Bennett Witch with a small sad smile, how she had tried and tried and _tried_ to find a spell, a curse, a hex, anything that would help him. That would free him. He could still see her pouring over the Grimoires' that had been left in her possession, could remember her face as she cried and begged him to forgive her for doing this to him.

To this day he had found it odd how she had been more upset about the entire thing when he hadn't been when it had been him that would be facing it. Not even Tyler had been that upset. But then again, they hadn't know what it meant. Hadn't thought it through, hadn't believed in it. Perhaps, the male thought, it would have been different if another, an older one, had been around back then to lead them through it instead of them having to, with the help of their friends, piece together the facts from fiction.

There had been another, he backtracked as a memory flickered to life, for a while, he remembered. Mason, Tyler's uncle, had been like them, he had even tried to warn them through small hints that had they realized and listened to they wouldn't have ended up in this situation.

But there had been no Mason around to help them when it started, when they had needed him the most, as his body was buried in a ditch, his head and body no longer linked together by the spine that had once joined them, his heart lying next to him and blood crusted down his chin from where he had coughed it out as the Wolfsbane had been forced down his throat.

Perhaps, the male considered as the walked further into the marsh past even more trees that he had ever wanted to see in his entire life, that was why he was doing this. Besides that he wanted to find out where he belonged, where he had been born, where he would have lived had he been kept by his parents, the people that he would have called family, the life he would have led.

Perhaps he just wanted someone to explain it to him, to explain why he was cursed.

Why everything he touched turned to ash, - something his sister also had in common with him no matter how much she said otherwise. Why his parents' had abandoned him. Why it had to be him that had been cursed, why it couldn't have just been Tyler. Why his adopted family had been who they were, because as much as he loved them dearly, he knew, having learned this along with the patience, that very rarely was something by coincidence.

Especially considering who his sister was. She had become too much of a Doom and Danger Magnet in the recent years for his adoption, even if it was all those years ago before her Doom and Danger Magnet tendencies had been activated, to be by complete accident. It just couldn't be.

He didn't think he was being paranoid in the least to have this view on it.

Everyone else he knew that knew he was adopted which could be, roughly, counted on two to one hands at any given moment, agreed with him if slightly reluctantly on some parts. That, he knew, was quite a number to think that, even if it was smaller than twenty.

Once again he passes a few more trees and gives them a passing scowl as he stops a little while away between more trees, blinks and glances around for a minute before the frown returns. The woman, a Witch he believes considering her distasteful glances towards the Vampires' in the building, although he's never met a Witch with a rocker-chick style of clothing before, at the restaurant/bar had mentioned when he had slyly brought it into the conversation in passing, that the people he were looking for were in the Bayou.

He didn't know if she had picked up on what he was and hadn't cared, simply telling him because she wanted to, or if there had been another reason that she had told him.

The male couldn't help but start to believe the later ever so slightly as he continued to walk deeper into the Bayou. He hadn't seen a person or animal since he had arrived which led onto the only reason that stopped him from completely believing the Witch had lied was that there was no sounds, apart from the ones he was making, coming from the swamp.

There was no birds, no flapping of wings, no crowing or chirping, not even the sound of hooting. No toads or frogs either, he couldn't hear the sound of their 'ribbits' or the sound of their tongues snapping out in order to catch the non-existent insects or beetles. No turtles, no alligators or crocodiles snapping their teeth as they lay in wait for their prey, no bobcats meowing, no snakes slithering on the ground about to bite him for stepping on of of them by accident. He couldn't even hear a bear in the far off distance somewhere.

It was this silence that told him that while the Witch might have lied about it being where the people he was looking for were, it didn't mean she was lying completely. Something was going on in this Bayou, something not normal, something Supernatural. And he, as always, was curious about what it was. A part of him hoped that it was where the people he was looking for were since even if he was curious he didn't want to have spent all this time in a silent Bayou for no reason.

It it worked out that way he would have to pay both the Witch and Bonnie a visit. Bonnie for a pleasant visit that included a favour of a hex. The visit for the other Witch, the male supposed would be far less pleasant than the one to Bonnie. Maybe he'd even do it so the Witch would never know he had even been there in the first place.

The thought was a nice one that calmed down the rising panic that he had only just started to feel. He would be there soon, he told himself as he took another step, just a little longer, only a tiny but more and he would have the answers he needed.

True to his own thoughts it was only a few more minutes before he reached a empty clearing.

Well, he was slightly lying, while no living person was there it wasn't actually empty. There were houses sitting in rows. Houses that he imagined would have once been small but beautiful, standing tall and protecting their inhabitants. But now those houses were burned down, left as ruined and charred houses that still, since he could tell it had been done a few years back, smelt faintly of smoke and fire and blood. But beneath the scent, just barely, he can make out the scent of Werewolf and at the familiar, if faint scent, he lefts a breathe of relief out. The Witch hadn't been lying.

But he can't ignore the smell of smoke, blood and fire and the sight of the burned down houses and he has to stop himself from running to find the Witch and demand that she tell him what happened. Because this isn't normal. Isn't what he was meant to find.

He wasn't meant meant to find a place that tells him a story he would have rather never heard at any point in his life. But a part of him, the part that's left of the teenage boy that found out he was adopted a few years back, that had his entire world shook up, breathes a sigh of relief as a weight lifts off his shoulders. His biological parent's didn't abandon him because they hated him. They must have loved him, wanted to take care of him, give him a life.

He doesn't need to ask anyone if they loved him now, he can see pictures that hand, the words that are written on the ground and walls of the houses in the clearing that's in front of him and he wants to laugh, because now he knows but the answer isn't from them, it is from what they've been forced to leave behind. And what is left behind isn't much.

And what is left behind leaves him numb because the story is a sad one, he's always hated the sad ones, and while it tells him that he survived it also tells him that his parents weren't that lucky. That they died in a house they called their own, possibly even by people or creatures they had once called friends and smiled at and he would have known and called family had they lived.

The blonde feels odd, because he shouldn't know this, shouldn't be able to tell from scent alone the rough outline of what happened, but he does. God he does, and he can't help but wish that he hadn't known. That he had remained in the dark. That he had stayed in Mystic Falls with his family and friends because this _isn't_ what he had wanted to know.

But the other part of him is content to know this, is happy to know this because now he knows who he's dealing with. Knows what kind of place he is in. Knows the difference between New Orleans and Mystic Falls. Now he knows that there's more chance of him dying if he does the wrong thing. Now he knows he'll have to watch his back.

New Orleans, apparently, doesn't take kindly to Werewolves.

The smile that curls his lips isn't a happy one. It's a sad one tinted with another type of feeling that bubbles in his chest refusing to let him go and that he's never been good at ignoring or dealing with in a positive way.

"What are you doing here?" A voice calls out disrupting him from his thoughts as he pushes up from the ground and turns around. In front of him is a woman, her hair is blonde and her eyes are blue. She's staring at him but at the same time frowning.

He sends her a smile he hopes is charming, from her narrowing eyes he suspects it's not that charming enough. "Just passing through," he answers.

"At this time in the night?" Is her dry response.

The male scrambles his brain for a believable answer. He hopes that she's noticed that he's only in his twenties, that will help him a long way. "I was planning on coming to the Bayou earlier on but arrived later than I had planned, but didn't want to let the opportunity get past," he gives a sheepish smile and shrug, "unfortunately I got lost in the Bayou."

The woman doesn't believe him, he can tell that but she doesn't say anymore about it obviously deciding that it was too late to try and get the truth out of him. "Come on then," she finally says, her graze still narrowed at him, "I'll take you to your car."

The male blinks before smiling at her. He could probably get back to the car himself but it would take a good part of the morning to get back. This woman looked like she knew where she was going, he wasn't going to turn down a gift horse. Or look it in the mouth, he couldn't remember which one it was. "Thank you Mrs..."

"Eve," she introduces herself with a small smile, "it's just Eve."

The blonde sends her a smile back in response, "Nick," he introduces himself, "Nick Rivers." He's already looking forward and trying not to fall over so he doesn't notice the slight widening of her eyes or the sharp intake of breathe she takes at his answer.

 **And that is it. So... what do you think so far?**

 **I know, now exactly like 'Choices of Revenge' but I do have to say that without that story idea I would never gotten this one so I have to send it love.**

 **Perhaps, at some point, I might go back to it and see what I can do, but for now, I think I'll try to focus on 'Repercussions of Choices'.**

 **Thanks to everyone who has read this,**

 **KiariKyoKiba.**


	2. Chapter 2

**And the second chapter is finally here!**

 **Thanks to all those who read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story.**

 **And Merry Christmas, and, if I don't get around to uploading another chapter in the new few days, Happy New Year.**

 **Repercussions of Choices:**

 **Part 1:**

 **Chapter 2**

Nick doesn't know how he manages it but he finds himself back in the French Quarter some time before the morning arrives but can't stop himself from scowling ever so slightly when he finds the streets are just as crowded as they had been before when he had been just passing through and thinks himself lucky that he had parked the car somewhere else. It would have been a pain to find a parking space with all the people around him. If there even was a parking space to be found.

Something told him that their wasn't a decent parking space in the crowded center of the Quarter.

Not if you weren't one of the VIP people he remembered Damon talking about a while back when the elder Salvatore had been drunk and rambling on about his own experiences in the city. Nick was pretty sure he was smart enough to figure out who exactly those VIP people were... mainly the ones that weren't at all friendly towards his kind.

Absently he notices the odd stares being aimed his way from a few of the people passing him. That same part of him also notes that none of them are teenagers most of them are in their twenties at the most. A rare few, one's that have a more experienced look about them, he notices more as they throw him a disgruntled look that speaks volumes to him before disappearing when he blinks.

How cliché, his mind remarks rather dryly.

He doesn't need to read their minds to know what their expressions mean, it's written on their faces, etched into the very lines of the crinkles beneath their eyes that narrow, clear enough for him to see that they know something about him.

That they know _what_ he is.

The part of him that is in pain from what he saw in the clearing of the Bayou lights up in elated at this and he has to fight back the urge to grin madly. This means that he was right. His kind did live here, lived here long enough that a few of the older ones learned to recognize them on sight. Learned to be wary of them.

Another part, the part that's still the teenager who learned he was adopted a few years ago, can't help but whisper a few words of warning into his ear. _What did they do to need to be recognized on sight?_ It asks, curious and wary. _What did they do to garner such hate_?

Because he knows that the disgruntled look is more than unhappy, it's a look of hate. The people, no... the _Creatures_ that know what he is hate him for that fact. They hate the being that lays within his body, hate the eyes that stare out from behind his own, hates the way he becomes it every Full Moon. They hate his very existence.

He won't tell them but they're not the only ones that feel that way.

So does he.

He resists the urge to speak the words for all they feel as if they might spill out, for all he wants to shout it out into the masses around him and laugh until he can laugh no more. He would probably be arrested for insanity. Not a good thing to have to put onto his resume to Whittmore. That and his sister would complain.

As he walks closer to the doors that will take him into the restaurant he had met the Rocker-Chick Witch earlier he ignores the stares he feels burning into his back from passing creatures, keeping his face calm and not allowing his heart to skip a beat.

They would hear that.

They would definitely hear that.

No doubt about that.

Sometimes Nate can't help but bring himself to hate his life. It was seriously messed up at times... especially wherever his sister was involved with her boyfriends. Nick made a face as he considered the incidents that had lead up to him finding out things he would rather have not known.

It was all her fault, he concluded in not-so retrospect as he had blamed many things on her in the past few months, her and Matt's. Poor Matt, Nick reflected with a wince, as the only human back home he always got into the awkward and sometimes painful situations by default of being in their friend group. It wasn't like he didn't have a hard life enough as it was before the entire Supernatural aspects parked right out front his front door.

His mother was barely there preferring to be with men half-way across the country than with her kids who didn't even know who their father was. He had to work to pay for the bills and the house while still going to school and being on the school team. His girlfriend broke up with him then her parents' died on that same night when they came to pick her up, after that said former girlfriend moves on quickly with the new student a few months later while he was still hung up over it. His friends were all lying to him and just when he moves on and thinks things were getting better he finds out that it isn't like that at all and he didn't really know anything because his ex was with a Vampire and the older brother of the Vampire who his ex was dating, who his ex also liked, who was also a Vampire, killed his sister after turning her when she attacked his ex. His new girlfriend was a Vampire, his other female friend was a Witch and then his two male friends were both Werewolves as they had killed someone to activate the curse. Also, he found out that one of the now Werewolf friends liked his current Vampire girlfriend.

Matt, in simple terms, was a great guy.

After he got over the whole; Supernatural Creatures' are Evil thing he had going on when he first found out.

That had sucked. A lot.

So had the lying to Matt in the first place.

But more the whole 'Matt-Tying-To-Kill-Them' thing.

Rousseau's looked just as he recalled, a bar and restaurant packed into one, like the Grille but better, with dark brown wood making up most of the furniture that adorned the walls and floors with bottles of all kinds upon the shelves behind the bar.

The only difference between earlier and now was that there wasn't any sunlight shining through the windows into the building, it was only the light from the artificial light. That and the Rocker-Chick Witch wasn't around any longer having probably gone to bed at some point.

A part of Nick was disappointed about that. He had quite liked Rocker-Chick Witch, it was sad he wouldn't be seeing her once again.

His muscles slowly untensed as he glances around the restaurant, for all the outside is bustling with life there is very few actually in the building. Apparently the restaurant wasn't a Vampire Hotspot like the Grille was back home, weird. But then, he considered, the Vampire's probably didn't actually need to go into crowded places to get a meal, they probably just had to stare across the road with intense eyes.

That, Nick thought, would work. Especially if the Vamps in question had eyes like Damon, or even Stefan on a good day. God, their eyes were intense.

He finds a empty bar stool at the bar easily and sits down on it, his back facing the entrance as he glances down at the menu. "So what do you want?" A female voice asks. He looks up to find himself staring into blue eyes and wonders for a second if Rocker-Chick-Witch had put in contact lenses and dyed her hair blonde.

She could would have had enough time. He hadn't seen her since this morning.

"Don't know," he answers as he puts the menu down, "just give me something you think is best."

"Something coming right up," she responds as she pulls out a bottle from under the bar and fills a nearby glass up. "So, visitor?" She asks as she hands over the glass and leans on the counter.

Nick picks up the glass and sips it before downing the rest when he decides he likes the taste. "In a sense," he replies, "what gave it away?"

The bartender, who Nick is now certain is most defiantly isn't Rocker-Chick-Witch trying out a new look as the woman is one hundred per cent Human, shrugs her shoulders. "I've lived here my entire life," the blonde revealed, "I have never seen you before. I would remember if I had, you seem like the kind of person that would be a regular here. What does the 'in a sense' mean?"

"Well," Nick said as he smiles at her, "I am new here. Although I was born in New Orleans before I was adopted."

"Ouch," the blonde winces, "sorry. I was probably insensitive for reminding you."

Nick shakes his head. "Don't worry about it," he assures her, "I got over it a while back. Besides, my sister was also adopted so it wasn't that much of a surprise."

"So," she stated her tone sure and unwavering, "you must be in town to find out more about your biological parents then."

"Yes," Nick nods his head, "I am. That and to meet with any relatives I might have that would mind telling me what happened if they can't." Nick doesn't tell her that he already knows that his biological parents are dead, that they can't tell him anything of what he would like to know, or what happened. He doesn't ask her if she knows anything about the Bayou, he knows that the Vampires, the ones that know what he is, are waiting outside, waiting for him to slip up and reveal what he knows.

He can feel them lurking, their gazes on the back of his neck and on his jugular, can imagine them straining their ears for the sound of his hear skipping a beat to catch him out. Waiting for the moment in which they can jump down and take his blood without any fear of vengeance because, in the end, they could claim, he was the one that stepped out. Not them.

Maybe he's just paranoid.

Likely he wasn't.

But he could be.

"Do you know anything about them?" She asks him, "I've lived here long enough to be of some help," she offers without any sense of the danger she would be putting herself in if he were to say yes.

Nick shrugs, "not that much," he tells her, "but I have a few clues," the clearing and the Werewolf by the name of Eve, "I'll get back to you though if I need any help, though," he assures her.

Best to have at least someone on his side, even if it's a human who knows nothing about what is going on outside her front door.

* * *

 _It had only been a few hours since his parents died, since they went over the bridge in the family car, since they drowned to death and Nick is still battling with himself over that he should feel._

 _A part of Nick, - the part of him that is angry, so very angry, - wished things could go back to how things had once been a few weeks before when his parents had been alive and his only worry had been about how he was going to convince Matt to take the day off and come with him and Tyler to watch a movie that had just been released in the town cinema._

 _But another part of him, - the part that knows things can't go back to how things were and is resigned having long since gave up, - is content to live like this. Is okay that his parents are dead, it would have happened at some point, everyone died in the end. At least, he tells himself, they had died without knowing they would die, it had been sudden._

 _That they hadn't wasted away._

 _Another part of him though, one that he doesn't listen to as much as the other two, - the part that scares him, - is silent. It doesn't feel anything for all it whispers to him that he shouldn't have been surprised that this happened. After all, it's happened before. That he should consider the recently deceased couple lucky that at least they died protecting something they believed was worth dying for._

 _It tells him that not many people do._

 _That not many are able to._

 _He decides in the end to listen to another part of him, the part that isn't silent, that isn't angry, isn't resigned. He follows the part of him that tells him that everything will be okay. That he just has to think forward, that his siblings will need his help, that Elena, who has yet to wake up but is still very much alive, will need him there. That there is nothing he can do but be there for them._

 _He follows the part of him that feels nothing about the situation._

 _The part that tells him that this is all just a dream and that one day he'll wake up._

* * *

Nick's back in the clearing the next day, his former high of having found something of his family had long since disappeared in the light of dawn as he came to the realization that they were killed like the animals they turned into once a Full Moon.

It's a realization that leaves him numb and sick to his stomach. It's an realization that creates an ache in him that feels almost as if they only way to fill it would be to hunt the perpetrators down and kill them himself. It's a realization that leaves him full of angry feelings and homicidal urges.

But there's another feeling inside him, one that doesn't feel as normal as the first, but has grown to become his unwanted friend. A feeling that makes him feel incomplete, as if this is only one part of the jigsaw puzzle that is his life and he has placed it in the wrong place, matched it up with wrong corners and edges and it won't fit even if he were to sand down the edges and carefully redesigned the shape.

He hates the feeling, has hated it ever since he started feeling it in Mystic Falls, hated the wary looks that his friends and family had started casting him around the same time as he started to get the headaches. More importantly, he hated the sense that he had started to get that something just wasn't right.

That something wasn't adding up no matter how many times he calculated, as if the numbers he got from the ending result he came to was off. And not by a margin, almost as if it was a few hundred numbers off what it should have been.

It's odd, he thinks, that he feels the exact same now as he does then but does his best to shake it off. He'll find out the answer soon enough, he'll just have to be patient and wait and take his time. It's one of the reasons he came to the town after all.

To find out the truth.

* * *

 _I_ _t's not a decision that come easily to him, it's not even one that he wants to make but he does end up making it as he stands in his room and stares down at the full holdalls on his bed and smiles grimly. It's time, he thinks as he picks them up and walks down the stairs towards the door but pauses when he notices something out of the corner of his eyes on the coffee table._

 _He frowns before rolling his eyes and putting down the holdalls he goes towards the object and picked it up. Holding the necklace up by its suede chain he held it up to the sunlight, curious of the creature roughly carved in silver._

 _It's some kind of bird, one he doesn't recognize but Bonnie would probably know or have an idea about. All birds were apparently Witchy-Business according to the Bennett. He considers putting it down, of going up and putting in Elena's room as this wasn't either his or Jeremy's but something stops him. Something, the normally silent part, tells him that they need it. That it is one of the clues about what he is searching for and that to leave it would mean loosing a clue._

 _The other parts are oddly silent, wary they watch as he places the necklace around his neck._

* * *

Marcel arches his eyebrow as he stares at Thierry, the normally calm vampire was gazing everywhere but at him and was suspiciously silent. "What's going on?" Marcel asks at last, his voice giving nothing away of his amusement at his friend or the annoyance that was starting to creep upon him. Thierry had been staring at the same wall for the last five minutes.

"There was news..." Thierry reveals to his leader as he finally turns his gaze from the walls to the dark skinned male who makes a gesture for him to continue, "that a... Werewolf arrived in New Orleans this morning."

Marcel frowns at that, not understanding why the news made Thierry wary. Sure, The Crescent Moon Pack was cursed and kept, - well, was forced to keep - to the Bayou even on the Full Moon and most Werewolves kept clear of the City but it didn't mean that they didn't have the occasional Werewolf in town. Marcel shrugged, "give it a warning then if you're worried," he tells the other vampire, "let it know how things are run around here. Normally that works."

It usually did. Most of the occasional Werewolves were just passing through not wanting to stay in a town run by Vampires for long but those that didn't, those that stayed a little longer, usually just needed a warning before they calmed down and left.

Rarely did they have to kill the Werewolf.

"That's the thing," Thierry said, "the Vampires, some of the older ones that caught sight of the Werewolf, think something is... strange about him."

Marcel raised his eyebrow. That was odd. "What kind of strange are we talking about?" Marcel inquired curious and slightly wary himself now. Most of the older vampires, the ones before Thierry. could be considered the most reliable when it came to telling Werewolves apart from the masses, having faced against the Crescent Moon Wolf Pack and other Packs enough times to have gained an inbuilt Werewolf Detector.

And if they thought something about the newest Werewolf was ' _strange_ ' than something was likely going on. "They say he seems familiar," Thierry revealed. "That it's as if they know him from somewhere but can't place it."

Marcel made a face. That didn't sound good. "Perhaps," he commented, "I'll have to see this Werewolf myself." He mentally sighed, just what he had needed, a strange Werewolf on top of the Witches acting weird.

 **And now, because it had to happen at some point, Marcel knows of Nick and Nick talked to Camille.**

 **What happens next?**

 **Probably a meeting with a Werewolf, a Vampire Stalker and another stuff.**

 **Also, a word of warning; there will be flashbacks to Mystic Falls and Nick's time there, why? Because it's important to the story, honestly I feel as if I dropped a lot of foreshadowing... although considering this _was_ originally ' Choices of Revenge' I guess it can't be that much.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll see you the next time.**


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